


Ebb and Flow

by Ceminar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: First Meetings, Other, pitch crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceminar/pseuds/Ceminar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunting parties. Expeditions. Every attempt to track The Signless and his band all end the same. And it's thanks to that oliveblooded menace. She must be stopped. And The Orphaner will be the one to do it. Possibly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ebb

Another failure.

The Orphaner grit his teeth as he looked over the reports on his desk. The last party that had gone out, searching for the mutant troll, The Signless, had come back like so many of the others. Empty handed. But they had been so close this time. The blueblood leading the expedition said they saw the wild haired one that claimed to be the Disciple as she fled into the oncoming dawn.

The Disciple. Her cunning was near unparalleled when it came to eluding capture. The others told stories of her work, how one night, she led a herd of horsebeasts through a camp, and another they found their food supplies covered in filth, other supplies broken, the powdered sopor brought along thrown in the stream, turning them green, forcing them to turn back.

This troll, this Oliveblooded Mate of the Mutant, was a menace.

With these stories floating through his pan, the Orphaner ran his bejeweled fingers through his hair, pushing the salt and pepper locks away from his scarred face.

“Aye... Right pain...” He grumbled after a moment, huffing before setting the papers aside. But there was a spark of curiosity he just couldn't help. He had to see her himself. See if she was truly worth all of the excitement, or if those that had gone after her before were simply incompetent. There was no way the Violetblood would ever admit that he was... Impressed... By her feats. Of course not. How foolish did one think he was? A troll of his standing had no business giving one like that any sort of acknowledgement. She had to be taken down, they all did. But not before he got the chance to see her for himself.

That's all this was.

At least, that's what he told himself as he prepared for an outting. Nights past, one after the next for a small expedition, led by The Orphaner himself. These types of trips weren't unusual, as Highbloods from all over sought the fame of bringing in that Band, or to test their skills. Most came back with more of the same stories as before, others came back with nothing, not a hide nor hair of her or those she was protecting. But it would be different for him. He was THE Orphaner. He would bring back more than just a story.

When the night came for them to set out, there was a tangible excitement in the air. His party walked, spread out to comb the surrounding area for any sign, any indication of their quarry. But alas, there was nothing. And the same went for the night after, and the night after that, marching until the moon sank and the harsh sun started to peek over the horizon, forcing them to set up camp and rest. Several days past, moral slowly dropping as it seemed to be one of those expeditions, the uneventful ones where the most interesting thing was possibly friendships forged by the members traveling together.

How dull. The pre-dawn hours were spent chatting with one another as they made camp, telling their own stories as they hid away from the bright rays until it was time to sink into their portacoons, a few stragglers keeping watch in the event that something happened. Anything.

As one of those stragglers, The Orphaner sat near the very edge of their camp, his time on his ship offering some slight resistance to the early morning light.

“Off wvith ya. Early start again tomorrowv.” With a wave, he dismissed the last, a tealblood with horns that curled back in an almost attractive way. Almost. “If anythin happens, I'll alert ya, but don't hold ya breath.” Nodding outwards, his hand lowered to his lap, caressing his Crosshairs absentmindedly. “Ain't much gonna be lurkin round this hour. Least nothin that'll be comin up this far.”

Seemingly convinced, or maybe without care, they left, yawning as clothes were shed shortly before the sounds of a body slipping into sopor were heard. Then silence, at least for a while. Before the moans and screams of The Daywalkers filled the air, the sounds of rustling were heard not far off. At once, Crosshairs was fired, the troll holding it barely feeling the kick as a shriek was heard, then a thud of a body hitting the ground. Sharp teeth bared in a grin, The Orphaner rose to his feet, moving in the direction of his fallen prey as the others rose, struggled to get dressed, to grab nets and weapons. But it didn't matter to him now. The closer he go, the stronger the smell of that vile blood that most certainly was flowing from her veins and onto the ground where she lay.

“Finally!” He breathed, weapon raised as he comes upon the site. “Ya ain't got nowvhere ta run nowv...”

Words die on his lips as violet eyes meet fierce green, as she hisses up at him. The Disciple greets him with not a look of fear, but defiance, even as her olive blood pours over the clawed hand gripping her side. She bares her teeth as the other stares, his earfins flared in challenge, which she refused to back down from.

This was the menace. This was the troll that had downright tormented those before him. And here she was, crouched before him, ready to lay down her life for those pissants hiding who knows how far away. This was her. And she was.... Intriguing... Much more impressive than he had thought. Much better than the stories. Every sound she made, from her careful breathing, to her snarls and even the blood slowly dripping onto the ground, made the hairs on his body stand on end. He was... Excited. He felt something stirring in him, that spark, that desire for the promised, wordless challenge he hadn't felt in sweeps.

She doesn't wish to flee. Every hint of a challenge he offers is reciprocated. Hiss for hiss, baring of teeth for baring of teeth, every twitch watched carefully, her claws flexing against her side, in the dirt as his own on the trigger. And he wanted more of that. He wanted to see what she would do, if given the chance. However, the sounds of the other approaching members drew him from his thoughts. Now would be the time to turn her in, hand her over to whoever it was that would take over her... care... and get information on the whereabouts or plans of The Signless. Capture her. Drag her back. It was that simple.

With a final glance, he turned from her, lowering his weapon as he answered the calls of 'Captain!'

“Wvasn't nothin.” He called back, moving away from her. “Just some dumb beast, snatched up 'fore it hit the ground.” The Disciple sat confused for the span of a heartbeat before darting off, leaving nothing but flecks of blood behind, signs that would soon evaporate in the heat of day. He looked back once, just to be sure the rustle he hear was from her departure. “Wve'll givwe it another night, aye? Then pack it in.”

The sleepy grumbles faded as they returned to their pods, the Violetblood following behind them to his own, thoughts on the troll he met so briefly, no doubt returning to whatever hole they were making their hive. The Orphaner wanted The Disciple as a kismesis, something he knew from that first jolt, if only just to see how well that would go. Be he was more than aware of the fact that if anyone got wind of their relationship, if she and the Signless' Band ever got captured, there would be an additional head on the chopping block. It wouldn't be worth it. And he would probably never have the chance to see her again. Instead, he would take these thoughts and shove them into the darkest corner of his thinkpan, as one of his position didn't dwell on 'What ifs'. He could only hope that no one would question what happened here. But with the growing cries of The Daywalkers, any fear of that faded as quickly as his consciousness once he slipped into his pod.


	2. Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another trip into the wilderness, displacing those in pursuit. That was all this was for The Disciple. Nothing more than something to discourage them, cause them to turn back with empty hands. She just didn't expect... This.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second, and final chapter, this time from the point of view of The Disciple. Enjoy!

“I'll be fine. I purrmouse.”

With a reassuring, if devious grin, The Disciple parted ways with her group, but not without pressing a kiss to this lips of her Signless, to her Everything. She was well aware that he hated these runs. Those late nights or early mornings when she would leave them for a while, to see how close their pursuers were. Because there were always pursuers. And every so often she would go and... Disperse them. Signal to the others where they were so they knew not to go that direction, then lead them further off their trail.

It was dangerous. Of course it was dangerous. But for her family, for Signless and Dolorosa and Psiioniic, she would do anything to keep them safe. To keep them breathing. So it made Signless a bit worried when she returned after several moon rises, finding them no matter where they wound up, sometimes bleeding. He would care for her in the time they had, bathe her, feed her, dress her wounds and spend the rest of that night curled around each other and talking in hushed whispers. But he understood why she did it. He didn't like it, but he understood.

Which was like so many times before, The Disciple spoke those words, that promise made before disappearing silently into the darkness, away from them all. But worried as it made him, the Oliveblood was careful. To a point. Though she was careful, she did have fun with them. The grin returned as she thought of the night she chased a herd of woolbeasts through a camp, or another when she personally rode a hoofbeast round as they were searching for a trail. The looks on their faces were almost as good as the nightfall when they woke to find their food tossed in the nearest body of water and they realized they might have to cut that trip short.

It would just be another regular run. Throw them off the trail, mess them up a little. She might even make it back without a new scar.

“Just like old times...” The Disciple purred at the thought. Blood on her claws, fighting for survival, for her life. She didn't kill now, it wasn't just her now, but those were still good memories to be lost in as she picked up the scent, found the tracks of at least five other trolls, spaced out to better look for any sign of them. Effective tactic, she would admit. But when it came to covering their tail, it didn't do much. Within hours, she was upon the camp, watching them from a safe distance as they set up for the coming dawn, as one by one, they slipped into their cloth mini-hives.

All, that is, except for one. The Disciple watched them as they spoke, saw how they seemed to defer to this... Finned troll. Even as they disappeared into their own spaces one by one, they called out to him, referring to him as Captain. But this wasn't the first she heard a troll call themselves that while in the wilderness. Quiet as a shadow, she slunk around, climbing into a tree to better keep watch as the final one left at the wave of the finned one. It would seem he intended to stay for a while longer, an impressive looking weapon on his lap.  
“Shit.” She recognized them now. Not by the horns on his head, but that weapon. The Ahab's Crosshairs. Stories ha reached her ears of both it and its owner, The Orphaner. If he was here, personally, then simple tricks would do nothing. She could leave no trace of herself here, nothing at all. As she rethought her plan of action, however, shifting on the branch, the leaves rustled, shortly before a piercing pain hit her side. A cry left her dark lips before she could stop herself, twisting and managing to land, barely on her feet on the ground below.

He SHOT her! Hissing more in surprise than pain, The Disciple clutched her side, feeling the blood well up under her palm. It was shallow, thankfully, but the blood wouldn't stop anytime soon, and there was no time to tend to it now, as moments later, the troll responsible for her injury was upon her, towering over her as she crouched, deciding what to do as his gruff voice fell upon her ears, answered with a threatening hiss.

She looked not on the weapon aimed at her still, but instead right into those violet eyes of his as she considered her odds. She could run. But they would expect that. Injured fugitive, on the run, leading them to their haven with a trail of blood. But she wouldn't do that. Still staring, she steeled herself gripped her side tighter. No. If The Orphaner was here, then she would be too. If he wished to fight, then she would give him one. For who would expect her to stay? To throw her life down for those she believed in? For those she loved in ways no other troll could understand?

Not him. Not this troll before her with those pierced fins flared, violet eyes narrowed, lips curled in a snarl to match her own. He couldn't possibly understand what she would do for them or why. Yet everything he did made her more tense, made her bloodpusher beat faster with an unfamiliar feeling.

Why hadn't he called out to the others yet? Why hadn't he fired again? Said something? Made a move? There was no scent of fear on him. If anything, he seemed excited. Eager to face her, to lay eyes on her, and that alone made her wild mane of hair bristle. Something about this wasn't like her other runs, but she wouldn't dwell on it. Simultaneously, their ears twitched at the sounds of others approaching. This troll alone would be problem enough, but more...

When The Orphaner turned his back to her, she saw her chance, poised to leap upon his back, ready to tear out his jugular for dismissing her, but his words to the others gave her pause, a confused look passing over her face as he tells them it wasn't nothing in his odd accent.

He lied. The Orphaner lied, was walking away from her. Before he could change his mind, she bolted through the underbrush, a few spots of olive blood left to remind any who saw that she was there, barely catching his last words.

He would leave. Of his own accord. He would take them and go and speak nothing of seeing her. But why? For a moment, she remembered the look in his eyes when he laid eyes on her, his reactions to everything she did. It wasn't... Normal. That wasn't how a hunter looked upon their quarry. Everything was off, but...

The Disciple pushed those thoughts aside for now. With a safe distance between that camp an herself, she found a spot to rest, at least until the Daywalkers past and the sun was no longer high in the sky. From there, she set after her troop, her family, finding them shortly after midnight. As to be expected, Signless was worried. The bleeding had stopped, but that wasn't enough for him. As soon as she cleared the entrance of the cave they found, he swept her up, wrapping her in his arms and kissing over her face. More hands came, a warm pair running through her hair, jolts of static tickling her horns as another undressed her. It wasn't long before she was taken to the shallow trough of water, the sweat and grime wiped away by a cool cloth, fed whatever it was Mother had managed to obtain as a needle glided through her flesh, closing the hole in her side, and tucked under the arm of her All Mate as the sun started to rise once more. Tonight wasn't for stories. Those came later. Her return was a night of rest and relief, knowing they were safe for some time still, when they could sleep, knowing they were all whole.

But she didn't sleep. Not yet. Slipping from the warmth of The Signless with a kiss to his cheek, she padded silently to the very back of the cave, pulling one of her tomes onto her lap as she looked at a long forgotten page, divided into four sections, marked with a heart, a diamond, a spade, and a club. One of her First Tomes, from when she was simply The Huntress, before discovering The Word of The Signless. Carefully, she traced over the faded markings, eyes distant as she thought on that troll, on how he made her feel, unknowingly adding a question mark to the faded black spade.

Was that what she felt? A spark of black? But she knew only bits and pieces of stories about The Orphaner. It was an unfamiliar feeling to say the least, but....

“No.” Whispering to herself, The Disciple snapped the ancient book shut, tucking it away where she had found it. It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it. If it was just her, if it were just The Huntress, then maybe. But she had others now. She had a love that none could take from her. She wouldn't risk that on a maybe. Not on a troll that wanted them all dead.

Returning to her spot, curling up against The Signless' warm chest, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the memory of the violet ones that bore into her what already was starting to feel like an eternity ago.

The Disciple did not play on 'Maybe's. To the end, she would remain loyal to those that took care of her. That loved her. But that didn't mean her mind wouldn't wander at times.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the spawn from a conversation I had [ with a friend](http://aei-sb.tumblr.com/%0A) about how Disciple and Dualscar might work out? And it started by talking about their AU, [ Magostuck, ](http://aei-sb.tumblr.com/tagged/magostuck)and I threw out the idea that HEY! Maybe Dualscar is part of a rival band and flirts with the hot Violinist? Which led to wondering how that ship would work out, you know... how they would meet as trolls and all and yeah... Responsibilities and all that...
> 
> ALSO! There is likely to be a part two to this. YAY! This was also a surprise FOR said friend. HI FRIEND!


End file.
